Photograph
by Marauding-Moonbabe
Summary: Songfic on Nickelback's Photograph. Even if you're RonHermione, please read this, as the AN applies to everyone in the world. It's time to say it, time to say it goodbye, goodbye Please read the AN. Reading the story & reviewing appreciated.


Photograph

By: Marauding Moonbabe

Harry rummaged through his messy apartment, looking for a certain object, a certain photograph, a certain memory. He was going to go to Canada for a vacation, he was so happy with his life. He had always had a thing to do, a place to go, but then, with a letter,_ the_ letter, all his certainty had been swept away like a wave in the ocean…

_Mr. Joe Groves:_

_We regret to inform you, but upon your request to receive a passport to Canada, we had to inspect your social security number. Upon further inspection, we discovered that your number was non-existent in the United States. We contacted your former county's system heads to find that your alleged number belongs to a certain Harry Potter. Please come to our new headquarters at 635 River Circle tomorrow morning at 8:00 to rectify this situation. We are currently unpacking, but it should not stop us from performing in any way. Thank you for your cooperation._

_Serena Collier_

That would be so easy to explain. _'Hi, I'm Harry Potter. I am the savior of a world you don't know about, a murderer of evildoers everywhere, and was just trying to get away from the limelight in Britain. Can I go now? Thanks.' _Harry thought bitterly. That would work _brilliantly._ If he didn't go, he would be tracked down. If he did, he would be caught. Harry had lived in America for five years. He had snuck away from Britain five years ago. He had left familiarity five years ago. He had left Harry Potter five years ago. He was now Joe Groves, the 22-year-old veterinarian assistant with dark brown hair, a hillbilly accent, and a clear forehead. The only remaining whisper of Harry James Potter was his emerald green eyes. No matter what he did, he could not curse, hex, jinx, transfigure, charm, or use potions to change his eyes. He had used magic to change his physical attributes, then stowed away his wand with his other school objects in a room of laughter and sadness. That was the room he was in right now, looking for his source of strength.

_Look at this photograph_

_Every time I do it makes me laugh_

_How did our eyes get so red?_

_And what the heck is on Ron's head_

_And this is where I grew up_

_I think the prison outa fix it up_

_I never knew we'd never went without_

_The second floor is hard for sneaking out_

Harry walked up the hot summer road, looking for the right drive. He wondered why the new headquarters was in a residential area, but when he saw a huge warehouse, he forgot his fears. _'That must be the place,'_ he thought. He walked into the warehouse, only to find it completely empty. He began to get an edgy feeling. Out of instinct, he reached for his wand, only to remember that he had abandoned all but necessary magic. He cursed under his breath as he heard no less than 10 locks click in place. The blinding fluorescent lights went out to plunge Harry into complete darkness. He heard a light pair of footsteps coming, quickly followed by two heavier pairs. There was no escape…

_And this is where I went to school_

_Most of the time I had better things to do_

_Criminal records said I've broken twice_

_I must have done it half a dozen times_

_I wonder if it's too late_

_Should I go back and try to graduate_

_Last man and now that it was back then_

_If I was them I wouldn't let me in_

As Harry's savior stepped into his vision, an aluminous light seemed to enthrall the beautiful young woman before him. "Hermione…" Harry whispered softly, almost unknowingly. "Harry? Is that you?" Hermione asked, but needlessly. Though his appearance was quite changed, his eyes would always scream Harry Potter like a beacon in the dark. Harry couldn't even nod. He couldn't do anything. Why did he leave what he knew? Why did he leave his friends? Why did he leave her? He was under a spell not taught at Hogwarts. Remus Lupin walking out of the shadows with Ron Weasley suddenly broke the chords that wove the spell. Remus muttered a spell under his breath that immobilized Harry from moving out of a 10-foot ring on the floor. It wasn't at all necessary. "Remus, Ron? What are ya'll doin' here?" He had left them (and his accent), and five years later, here they are in a Kentucky warehouse. "Why now?" he asked, accidentally implying the wrong thing. He _meant_ why did they come find him when he was so horrible to them. Each sentence was half British and half Hillbilly, making him sound insane.

_Oh oh oh_

_Oh god I_

_Every memory of looking out the back door_

_I have the photo that was printed on my bedroom door_

_Its time to say, time to say it_

_Goodbye, goodbye_

_Every memory of walking out the front door_

_I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for_

_Its time to say, time to say it_

_Goodbye, goodbye_

_Goodbye_

"Yes, Harry, we're here. It took me five _bloody _years to track you down. You hide yourself well when you want to." Hermione said, tears brimming in her eyes. Those tears were meant for hatred, but as soon as they appeared, they turned to tears of joy and relief. She had come here to give Harry a piece of her mind, a burning urge to let him have some of the grief she had endured. But as those tears slid down her cheeks, she didn't see a man who walked into a trap, or a man who abandoned his friends five years ago. She saw a boy forced to grow up too fast to be fair to the worst assassin. She saw a boy who didn't know where to go, what to do. She saw a boy who left everything he ever knew just to get a small amount of happiness he thought unattainable in Britain. She saw the boy she had grown to love after five years of separation.

"Bloody…" Ron started, but finish his trademark swear due to Hermione turning abruptly and slapping him upside the head. "Dang it Hermione. Stop doing that already. She's been doing that every day for the past five years. I knew I shouldn't have gotten that flat…" Ron said to Harry, trading 'the look' with Harry, acting almost as if five years had just been a day. He knew Harry needed some space, and he sure as heck hoped that five years in Kentucky was long enough, because if not, he would just be drug back to Britain. "Wait, you two live together?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused. Where they… married?

"Hermione, Ron and I have live in the same apartment since you left. Everyone calls it the Harry Potter Remnants Clubhouse. It's a four-room apartment, three filled. The last room is for you. It's always been open to you. At night I hear Ron muttering in his sleep, Hermione crying and praying that you will come home. I ensured that the room was always open, no matter the emotional price. We've always been waiting for you." Remus said quietly. He knew what his godson had gone through, and wanted to help him any way possible. He didn't care if it included adding guilt. Guilt can help people realize the true path sometimes, as it had with him.

"You don't have to wait anymore." Harry said, and stepped into his godfather's embrace. He had nearly forgotten what it was like to be held since Sirius had died. As he pulled back, he realized that tears were pooling in his eyes. He hastily wiped them away before anyone noticed. So neither was married, he gathered from Remus' tone of voice. "Let's go. I need to pack."

_We used to listen to the radio_

_And sing along with every song we know_

_We said someday we'd find out how if feels_

_To sing to more than just the steering wheel_

_Cho's the first girl I kissed_

_  
I was so nervous that I nearly missed_

_  
She's had a couple of kids since then_

_  
I haven't seen her since god knows when  
_

__

"Hey Remus, Ron, can you pack up the living room? Me and Hermione can pack up these smaller rooms back here." At the affirmative, Harry walked purposefully toward his bedroom. Hermione trotted to catch up with him and said, "Harry, please let me rectify your appearance. That hillbilly accent is driving me batty." He nodded and stepped up to a mirror. Hermione muttered the reversal spell, and watched the change. First the scar returned, then the long, raven hair. After that, his nose slightly lengthened and his eyelashes became thicker and longer. He grew a few inches taller. Lastly, his muscles got a considerable amount larger.

"Why did you do that much?" Hermione asked, eyeing Harry's newly revealed muscles. "Hair, nose, scar, and accent for recognition. And for some reason, in America you are gay if you are tall, have long eyelashes, and work out. That or a bull-rider." Harry replied, sounding hopelessly bored, as though reciting it by memory. Thankfully, he fell right back into the oh-so-hot British accent. Hermione swished her wand to noiselessly pack and shrink everything into a suitcase. "You get good at that after five years of living with Ron and Remus." She commented about her packing spell.

They walked to the bathroom and packed it in with the bedroom. Then, they walked into the last room. The room. The room that held so many memories of hope and faith, of despair and destruction. Hermione looked around the room in awe. It had gold walls with a red border around the top. The room was full of stacks of photographs. It looked like a Colin Creevy paradise. "Oh, Harry, where did you get all these?" "I got them from Colin a few days before I left. When I was in the Hospital Wing I asked him to gather up me copies of the best of the best. This one was my source of strength all these years."

_Oh oh oh_

_Oh god I_

_Every memory of looking out the back door  
_

_I have the photo that was printed on my bedroom door  
_

_Its time to say, time to say it  
_

_Goodbye, goodbye  
_

_Every memory of walking out the front door_

_I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for_

_Its time to say, time to say it_

_Goodbye, goodbye _

He found a stack in the middle of the floor. He picked up the first one and handed it to her noiselessly. She burst out laughing, and Harry joined her. It was a picture that they had taken in 7th year in a Muggle photo-booth during graduation night. This was the last memory of being happy. The night before the final battle. The night before he became a murderer. The night before he became the hideous monster he now was. Ron was wearing a tea cozy from Dobby on his head, with Harry and Hermione singing into a hairbrush. The background was appropriately a lime-green pickup truck being driven by Ron through a cornfield. Hermione was laughing so hard that she was crying. Seamus had attacked Ron and Harry with a red paintball gun earlier. They got all the paint off except around their eyes, making them look like rabid rabbits. The truck motor was electrifying Crookshanks, making the tips of his fur turn Mad-Eye Moody blue. Pig and Hedwig were bickering with each other over nachos wearing Speedos.

_I miss that town_

_I cannot believe it_

_So hard to stay_

_So hard to leave it_

_If I could I relive those days_

_I know the one that would never change_

Hermione waved her wand to pack up the last room, still guffawing. She and Harry stumbled down the hall with the suitcases to the living room/kitchen. They handed Ron the photograph. With Remus looking over his shoulder, they both burst out laughing. They put the photograph with the others, and walked out the door. "You guys go on, I'll be there in a second." Harry said at the end of the drive. Ron and Remus obliged. But of course, Hermione stayed back.

"You'll miss it, won't you?" She asked. He nodded. "It's five years of my life, Hermione, of course it's hard." She couldn't help it, she said, "That didn't stop you before." She gasped and covered her mouth. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Yes, you did, Hermione. I deserved it. I almost turned back when leaving Britain. I saw that photograph. I started laughing in the middle of the airplane. I was getting my luggage out, and realized that it was too late. You have to live with those consequences for the rest of your life. I realized that too late. I thought that I was leaving fame and… and my actions, but I didn't leave them. I left Ron, and Remus, and my friends, and… and you. Every day for five years, I tried to deny the fact that I was dieing inside. I was just a shell. I didn't think you would take me back after being so selfish. That's why I never came back."

"Harry, you have never been selfish. You never hid from your destiny. Not once, even when it would be so easy. You deserved to be selfish for once in your life by leaving, Harry."

"You must hate me for putting you through so much, Hermione."

"I could never hate you. We live with our actions for the rest of our lives, Harry, and somehow, this will help us. We just don't know how yet."

_Look at this photograph_

_Every time I do it makes me laugh_

_Every time I do it makes me_

"Can we live with this?" Harry asked, softly kissing Hermione.

"Yes."

Harry started swaying to a song he made up, Hermione swaying with him. He started to softly sing:

"_Every memory of looking out the back door_

_I have the photo that was printed on my bedroom door_

_Its time to say, time to say it_

_Goodbye, goodbye_

_Every memory of walking out the front door_

_I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for_

_Its time to say, time to say it_

_Goodbye, goodbye"_

And with that, Harry said, "Goodbye," one last time, and walked away from the death of his soul, hand-in-hand with his savior.

_Every memory of looking out the back door_

_I have the photo that was printed on my bedroom door_

_Its time to say, time to say it_

_Goodbye, goodbye_

_Every memory of walking out the front door_

_I found the photo of the friend that I was looking for_

_Its time to say, time to say it_

_Goodbye, goodbye_

**A/N: Okay, to get the credits out of the way, the song is Nickelback's song called Photograph. I did modify a couple of words in it to accommodate Harry Potter. I do not own Harry Potter. I do not discriminate against hillbilly accents because I have one. I can continue this fic if you want me, I have the ideas, but I won't waste time by posting if nobody wants me to. So if even 3 people want me to continue, I will.**

**Down to business. For those people in the United States, I started this after Hurricane Katrina hit. I actually wrote this fanfic for that. I hope to raise awareness and motivate people to help. I was lucky because I was not affected. However I went to New Orleans over the summer. I did not particularly like it, as I like the country road thing better myself. Still, a very diverse culture has been almost destroyed. That in itself is a horrid crime. Even worse is the people. The many people that died during the hurricane, scared, afraid, and trapped. They were there waiting to die. No way to get out. Then the survivors have seen their possessions, their house, and most importantly, their family and friends be destroyed. Over 250,000 people have become homeless in Louisiana alone. There are people on the streets, not having their heart medicine or insulin, not knowing where to go next, not knowing if their children or parents are alive or not. Not even knowing if they will live. We sit her and read fan fiction while babies and elderly die of heat strokes and starvation. Now, are we the United States of America or not? George W. Bush has sent money too late. There are already people that have dropped dead on the streets, writing notes to their loved ones before they die. Please, help in any way you can. No, this is not a plea from a teenage hillbilly, but a cry from so many people that are united. If you can go down there and take people out of there, please do. If you can join the rescuers, please do. If all you can do is donate peanut butter and pray like me, please, _please_ do that. We must show the world that we do care and that we are truly "One nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all." Once again, this is not a plea from me, but a cry from our nation's people. Thank you for reading this, and all reviews would be appreciated.  
**

**-Marauding Moonbabe**


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